<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Golden Red by AllyWithAY</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163874">Golden Red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyWithAY/pseuds/AllyWithAY'>AllyWithAY</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Rising Series - Pierce Brown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Because I Haven't Read It., Cassius Gets a Genre Change and Honestly It's For the Best, Eventual Romance, F/M, I Like My Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Math, Nellie of McGraw has No Concept of Time, Set Before Iron Gold, Somewhat Unreliable Narrator, thank you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:40:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyWithAY/pseuds/AllyWithAY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nellie of McGraw took over her little farming planet and almost single handedly began the destruction of it's rigid caste system. Then Cassius shows up. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassius au Bellona/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. To Meet a Nellie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey, its me. I'm not dead, which is weird because I haven't posted for months.<br/>so, I'm rewriting my story, because writers block is horrible. I found I do better, when I write in little one shot like chunks? so Imma do that, instead of burning out and abandoning this story before we even get to the good part. If for some reason you liked the old chapters for some god forsaken reason, Just comment and let me know, Ill post them again. they wont be "canon" to the GR universe, but idk.<br/>Either way, thank you to everyone who likes my dumb little story. it means a lot, and I hope you'll have half as much fun with it as I have.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>According to the stained form on her bed stand, barn McAban from Sector Five had produced 248,581,611 metric tons of corn in the sixty day growing period allotted each season. Their neighbor, barn McCabe, had produced 159,914,253 metric tons. And their neighbor, barn Mccauley, produced 296,958,520 metric tons. She then added them (705,454,384). Then she added the next barn (barn McCormack, 238,422,534 metric tons, 943,876,918). And the next (barn McDougall, 132,265,071 metric tons, 1,076,141,989). and then the next (barn McGrady, 231,283,407 metric tons, 1,307,425,396). Over and over until she had gotten all ten barns of the sector, adding as she went (2,235,939,799). Then, she found the average, subtracted it from the total to plant the next season, and repeated the process for the rest of the ten sectors. It was enough to make a lesser man go mad.</p><p>	Nellie of McGraw, in her madness, kept the numbers in her head. Constantly adding, subtracting, taking one number, storing another as the digits became almost nothing. Day in day out she did this, double checking, triple checking, keeping the weight in mind so she could spread it evenly between the ten “rust buckets” her Blues had for this purpose and this purpose alone. That was her life, most of it at least; the other little parts being playing nice with old men so they don't have her hang, keep the rest of the galaxy from finding out about her and her coup, and keeping the planet from exploding in on itself. So far it had been successful for twelve seasons, which is twelve more than she really expected all things considered.</p><p>	She yawned, a whining, petty sound that went well with the different cracks and pops of her back as she stretched. Standing up, her angry red curtain of hair falling in her face in all its tangling, curling glory. A soft smile came to her face; her Ma hated her hair. It was a lot brighter than her sisters and barn mates, a shitty orange to their blood hiding red, not to mention it ate combs like a monster.</p><p>	Once her Ma had decided to cut it out right, shaving her poor head, leaving her humiliated for a week. Then, much to the entire barn McGraw's horror, she used her new found short hair to her advantage. Using it to blend in and join the young boys in the fields for months. When she had eventually been figured out, she already had a nasty case of Farmer's Foot, and Ma had given up on the whole thing. </p><p>	With the satisfaction of knowing she was the worst child her Ma had ever had to deal with, she left her beloved comforter. Getting her indoor boots on, picking out an oversized sweater to wear as a dress, she went to start the day. The metric total rolling around in her head like a marble.</p><p>	With the sun far past the dawn she left her room, running through the halls, bobbing and weaving past the well dressed Reds and Pinks that always acted like the world was on fire. Getting to her kitchen, she grabbed the wooden step stool, Bringing it to the fridge, and using it to reach the freezer. Finding the shot glass, with the tiny frozen food package inside. Leaving the kitchen, she dragged the stepstool along behind her in one hand, with the cup in the other. </p><p>	She could absolutely use some coffee, she acknowledged, among the sevens and eights, trudging once again through the halls in this shitty maze that had become her home. She hated the taste of it, but it didn't stop her from craving the shit juice.</p><p>	Eventually, she got to the living room, staring up at the strange tank of sand and water the Gold-licker who lived here before her had owned. Personally she didn't know why the bastard had the thing, the fish inside were too small to eat. But it was the only thing the staff had asked of her, and they seemed to enjoy looking at it when they got the chance.</p><p>	Climbing up the step stool yet again, she dips the cup in the water, swishing it around to break up the tiny kelp brick, and pouring the water back into the tank. Letting the fish eat as she watched them for mild entertainment. She still wanted coffee, and by the Vale she knew she couldn’t make any there. She didn't even know if there was a coffee pot in her Pit forsaken kitchen, and the idea of asking the staff for a cup was a bad one. Asking them for anything was a bad one, not that she blamed them any. Disappointed, she set the cup down with more force than she really needed. Hopping off the stool and storming back to her room with the memory of it on her tongue. </p><p>	She had things to do, or at least, she thinks she did. The growing season had just ended, and that left her about ten days to figure out the numbers, make sure everything was in order. She really only needed one, but double checking the ships and running the numbers again was always a good idea. That is, if she hadn't given them the go ahead already, which was an absolute possibility. It didn't matter, not really. She wasn't dumb enough to think that her planet mattered any, it was a tiny speck in the middle of the universe who had a single job. Grow corn, for synthetic sugar or whatever fake food they need. There were hundreds of planets like hers, that's the only reason she was still alive. No one cared.</p><p>	Despite that, she still had the planet functioning. No one would care but, there was a chance someone might notice the lack. 20 billion tons of anything wasn't something to sneeze at. Most likely case scenario is they'll brush it off as a bad growing year. Still, she kept at it, if only because what else was she going to do? They sent the supplies, what else were they going to do. Not mentioning that half the plowmen she knew were the most stubborn sons of bitches she'd ever seen when it came to change; they'd rather shoot themselves in the foot then stop growing corn. she was still planning some things anyway, because of course she was. But that's another story.</p><p>	Suddenly she stopped, turning to her stacks of papers. Running through them again, and once more just to be sure. She was missing one. Sector One of all places. Frantically, she	 looked under her bed, not finding it but the cotton blanket she hid under there. </p><p>	She frowned, pulling her hand away from the wretched thing like it would bite her. She hated the feeling of it, it filled her head with radio fuzz and made her teeth ache. Why anyone would have something so horrible in their home was beyond her. But then again, in what universe was she ever supposed to understand a Gold.</p><p>	Changing directions, she looked under her bedside table. Then her desk and the massive piles of paper her project demanded. She counted the papers again to be sure. Still nothing, Sector One eluded her. With one last hope, she removed her massive comforter, finding nothing under it to her despair. She cursed, grabbing the other nine forms as she once again left the comfort of her room. </p><p>	Once again she found herself navigating the labyrinth that was her house, and once again she got lost. The hours turned into days, she considered writing a will and testament, but couldn't find a writing utensil in any of the rooms she checked. When she had lost all hope, and the little hope she didn't know she had, she found the front door, falling to her knees dramatically at the sight.</p><p>	“Finally,” she mumbled to herself, only for a few of the staff,  getting up, and brushing off the dirt from her knees. She hated her house. So, being more than happy to get out of it, she put on her outdoor boots over her indoor boots, and opened the door, pausing momentarily at the sight of the planet's main star. Glinting against the dome like thing around the massive property. Twelve seasons or no, she'll never get over the fact that it exists. That something could possibly be so bright.</p><p>	Slowly she shook her head, forcing herself to look away, to close the door behind her. Luckily for her, Sector One was the closest out of all of them, and if she really wanted to she could walk there without going under the planet's surface. The thought was intriguing, and checking the recently grown grass on the planet's surface would be fantastic. Doing so, however, meant going to one of the cities, the capital in particular, which exposed her to quite a lot more Greys than she really wanted. The thought twisted at her stomach, and she quickly decided that it wasn't worth it, making her way to the elevator instead. Yes the tunnels were cramped and dark, but at least in the tunnels she didn't have to worry about a gun ending up in her face. maybe.</p><p>	With that decided, she made her way to the edge of her yard, revealing the ramshackle elevator she had made. It was flimy, dangerous, and if anything on this planet were to kill her it'd be that. All the same she stepped on it, pulling the lever and praying to the Oranges that built it that she may live another day. She liked the Oranges of her planet, the ones of McGraw were particularly cool, but as the mechanisms creaked, she doubted them. </p><p>	The descent began, and she closed her eyes, letting numbers take the forefront of her mind. Sector Six, starting with McCann, 180,316,638 cubic tons, and whoever decided that the barns had to start with Mc should hang, and then promptly hang again. Then was McClain, 234,933,952 cubic tons, 415,250,590. McConnell, 145,542,954 cubic tons, 560,793,544. McCord, 190,987,573 cubic tons, 751,581,117. McFall, 139,999,459 cubic tons, 891,780,576. McFarland, McGinty, McIntyre, 211,927,433, 198,531,860, 232,450,470 cubic tons each, 1,534,690,339. McKinnon, with 136401342 cubic tons, 1,671,091,681. That left McNair, with 160496921 cubic tons, the total being 1831588602. With a sigh, she factored the rainy day fund, bringing it to about 1.6 billion. </p><p>	The elevator rattled, slow as ever. She took a moment to breathe and then another, feeling the crate rattle. She trusted them, she had to. She was already in the box. Sector Seven started with barn McCarty, 113,329,634 cubic tons, who recently had a problem with one of their harvesting machines. At least Nellie thinks so, the barns tended to blur together. McClellan, McCracken, McGregor, McKeown, who even named these Pit forsaken things, 161166618, 296798793, 178043862, 278127944, 1027466851 total. McKinley, McLain, McSacar, McSturdy, 233006553, 164899614, 225383266, 109094023 (no it was McSturdy with the broken sorter. McCarty just had a shitty grow, it happens.) that left McWilliams, 225550915 cubic tons, 1985401222 in all. Factoring in the rainy day, 1.7 billion. Not too bad all things considered.</p><p>	Then came Sector Eight, which was a bit of a special case. Technically using the corn they grew was illegal, and the production of alcohol was super duper illegal. Sector eight, however, didn’t give a fuck, so they ended up making the best damn moonshine this side of the cosmos. Technically illegal, but honestly everyone knew about it and Nellie wasn't about to end a good thing cause of such a stupid rule. So she did the math, as she does, added everything together, and instead of giving them one grow pile, she gave them two. Writing it off as a rainy day security. Not that she really needed too, but still.</p><p>	She could use some shine right now. And coffee. Mostly coffee. </p><p>	At last, she made it to the bottom, revealing the former mining tunnels that lead her home. Bright lights were built into the stone walls, and she's never been happier to see them in her life. happily running along after them, to where the tunnels merged; and just like that she wasn't alone. Packs of Mcflys meandered the halls, and it was easy as stepping in time with one to join it.</p><p>	“Howdy,” she greeted, as they walked. They greeted her the same. It was only polite. “Mind leadin’ me to the barn any?” </p><p>	“Not at all,” one of them said, a particularly weedy looking woman with some grey in her hair. Nellie grinned, bowing her head a little. </p><p>	“Thank ya kindly.” she said, then shut her mouth so they could continue their conversation. It was mindless gossip, apparently a girl from McGowan fancied someone or other, and a sister of hers wasn't happy about it. Personally she didn't see what the big deal was, but they seemed invested. Arguing half the trip which sister was better, then devolving about how the Plowman McFly had some meeting, and then whether or not he was screwing that Grey he was so fond of. (he was, having admitted it to Nellie in private. Not that she said anything about it.)</p><p>	They got to the barn, and seeing her chance Nellie parted from the group, going to the barn’s massive kitchen; waiting politely in line for a cup of coffee. Zoning out once again as she worked on Sector Nine. By now she had gotten them all done, but it was always nice to double check. Just so no one would feel the need to investigate. Plus, she always felt better when she had something to look back on. Which is why she really should get that form soon. She worked, chewing on one number before taking another, and another, ignoring the sound of stomping boots as she got closer and closer to her glorious cup of much needed coffee. </p><p>	195974286 + 271409325 + 258770481 =</p><p>	“McGraw!” the plowman McFly yelled, walking in and spooking her. She jumped, knocking into the man in front of her, causing him to spill his coffee a bit. She sent him an apologetic look, but he was more focused on the pissed off man in charge of the barn, and the towering Grey behind him. The Plowman McFly was on the younger side, and admittedly one of the more tolerable of the bunch but that didn't mean he wasn't intimidating when he wanted to be.</p><p>	Without another word, he grabbed her arm, being careful not to hurt her, and dragged her into the hall, barely giving her enough time to grab the man’s mug of half spilt coffee. There the Plowman loomed, festering in his anger. The Grey stood behind him, only there to present a united front. “Where the hell have you been?!”</p><p>	She looked between the two men. Obviously she was at “home”, the only reason she lived there was to make her easier to find (that, and an old dumb law, but mostly the first thing). She watched the Grey try desperately not to show his amusement, only cracking a little when she asked. “Is that a trick question or?” </p><p>	“Fuckin’- Nellie!” Mcfly groaned, causing her to scowl. </p><p>	“Lay off! I've been working on stuff. It's been a lot.” she said, glaring up at the two men, cursing the fact that McGraws tended to come out small for the millionth time. With a little sigh, she conceded, taking a glorious sip of coffee. “What day is it any how?”</p><p>	“You don't know?” Mcfly said, as his partner started laughing, much to his chagrin. “Nellie the season starts tomorrow!”</p><p>	“Liar.” she gasped, “Already?”</p><p>	“Nellie!” he almost whined. The Grey was still cackling behind him. </p><p>	“Again! Working on somethin’! ‘m busy!” she hissed. “Shit. How bad is it? Have the ships left yet? And McSturdy needed a new sorter right? Is that handled?”</p><p>	“You’re askin’ me-?” he started, before dropping it with a sigh “Yes Nellie, they left yesterday like you told them to. McSturdys all set, We’re going to start just fine. Which ya would have known if you'd actually pick up a damn phone.”</p><p>	“Hey!” she objected, trying not to remember the last time she had picked up the phone.</p><p>	“Regardless, we’ve got bigger problems right now.” he looked around, ensuring that no one was around to hear it. “Somethin’ landed on the planet.”</p><p>	“What?” she said, blinking like an owl “Are the cities alright?” </p><p>	“Yeah, they're fine, everythin’ seems accounted for, but it scared Sector Seven halfway to the Mudpit” he said, as the Grey handed her a data pad. She watched something enter the atmosphere, as the strange scribbles that seemed to follow her everywhere blocked half the screen. She handed it back to him, pretending to know what that was for.</p><p>	“And no one told me about this because?” she asked them, and she could see McFly's face turn red</p><p>	“We couldn’t fuckin’ find ya, brainless!” he snapped, causing her to raise her hands in surrender. “Now come on! There's a meetin’ in the capital ‘n we’re late enough as it is.”</p><p>	“Fine! Fine. ‘m goin’, ‘m goin’. No need to yell at me.” she grumbled with a pout, grabbing her cup and making her way to the door.</p><p>	“No ya don’t! Those cups don't leave this house n’ you know that!” McFly reprimanded, and she scowled at him.</p><p>	“You ain't my pa!” she hisses. All the same she took one big chug of what's left and put the mug on the floor for someone to find later. Then she leaves, the two men following in tow.</p><p>	It didn't take all that long to get back to the surface, the capital city took a bit longer. Admittedly the fight she had with McFly whether or not the old bastard could play poker (he can’t) did help speed things along. The capital city normally scared her a bit, but today it seemed almost empty. Only the occasional Grey running somewhere or other. She counted twenty of them in all, forty guns and twenty batons, she hated to think about it. More so about how possible it would be to steal the baton from McFly’s Grey. She knew they cared about each other, you’d have to be blind not to see the way they look at eachother, but how far did that go?</p><p>	“Nellie.” He mentioned gently, tapping her on the shoulder once again causing her to flinch. She turned to him quickly, and she hated the concern on his face. Hating even more that the Grey seemed to take a few steps back. “You’re twitchin’ again.”</p><p>	“Am not.” she defended, batting him away and pointedly not looking at the Grey. “’m just tired, I’ve been runnin’ around all day.”</p><p>	She gave him a little look, causing him to drop it. “Whatever ya say. Now when you gonna make shine legal?”</p><p>	“Oh by the Vale, this again? ‘M tryin my best!” she pouted, and nudged him with her shoulder. He shoved her back, and she laughed. The town hall coming into view, she saw her little pack of friends by the door. They waved the second they saw her and she smiled, looking over to McFly. “Go on ahead, yeah?” </p><p>	He nodded, and moved past her, and she made her way over to them, sticking her tongue out in greeting. She gained a few sarcastic side curtsy in return, and she resisted a snort, standing next to Rebecca and leaning against the wall. </p><p>	“So, were you going to tell me that the season starts tomorrow? Or was I supposed to find out about that when it ended” she asked, sending her a half hearted glare. Rebecca just smirked, taking a drag of her smoker and rolling her eyes. </p><p>	“In my defense, I did send Sadie to go check on ya.” she said, Sadie shooting them a dirty look</p><p>	“I did! I couldn't find her anywhere that ain't my fault.”</p><p>	“Did ya check my room?” Nellie asked, and she scratched the back of her neck.</p><p>	“Yeah…” she said in a tone that absolutely made Nellie believe her. She cackled, before letting her good mood fade. </p><p>	“How bad is it in there?” she asked them, getting sheepish looks from the lot of them.</p><p>	“Ain't gonna sugar coat it, it's pretty bad” Rebecca warned, much to Nellie's dismay. “Ya might wanna get in there.”</p><p>	“Yeah, probably.” she sighed, looking at the bright green door. </p><p>	Sucking it up, and getting her best poker face, she waved her girls goodbye and walked inside. Seeing as all the high Colors were gone, the Hall was little more than a glorified casino, not that anyone cared. The head Plowmen of each sector were there, sitting around the massive table. Half of them were drunk, jars of shine still in hands, the other half seemed to wish they were.</p><p> 	She cleared her throat, and all heads turned to her. Some men dipped their heads to acknowledge her existence, others whispered to their companions. The plowman McGraw was missing, (not much of a surprise) and before she could say anything the Plowman McGregor stood, a little girl, clinging to his leg for dear life.</p><p>	“McGraw! Thank the Vale you're here. It's worse than we thought.”</p><p>	“What, did we lose tunnels?” she asked, frowning.</p><p>	“Worse. We’ve got one of ‘em goldilocks out there.” he admitted, causing everyone in the room to burst into panicked chatting and whispering, one that made her head ache. “The kid saw it with her own two eyes.” he swore to her, challenging the lot of them. They only got louder, soft words of doubt and panic. It was quickly becoming too much for her.</p><p>	“Quiet!” she shouted at them, turning to the girl, as she clung to her Plowman even tighter. “Tell me.”</p><p>	“It was massive.” she croaked, like mentioning him any louder would cause him to appear. “Me, a-and Daniel were just goin’ to see what the sound was, we knew we weren’t supposed to go upstairs, but we were in the city and we wanted to go play, n’ then- then we see this ship. N’ there-there was a guy there, workin’ on it. It was big, n’ tall, n’ it’s hair- it was like Ron-”</p><p>	“Ey! We don't say that name, Milly.” her Plowman corrected, “You know that.”</p><p>	“But it was!” she defended right back. “It was yellow n’ curly, n’ really really tall! It was one of ‘em!”</p><p>	Nellie pinches the bridge of her nose; she had hoped to never see one of those bastarding gold-lickers again. Before she was able to respond, McKoy scoffed loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.</p><p>	“Oh please, you called all of us here for the stories of some bloodydamn kid?” he sneered, leaning against a wall. “it's clearly a joke, n’ a pisspoor fuckin’ joke at that. Ain’t been a Gold round here in years, n’ yall know it.”</p><p>	“Does she look like she’s fucking jokin’.” her plowman shot back, his daughter pale and shaken. Mckoy took a step towards him, smaller than the man but plenty intimidating if you didn't know any better.</p><p>	“Watch your tone, son. Your speakin to a plowman, bloodydamn it.” he growled, and McGee stepped between them, getting up in McKoy’s face.</p><p>	“Really?” McFly snorted. “After your harvest, you still call yourself that?”</p><p>	“You wanna go, fly boy?” he turned, snarling like a dog. Nellie was quickly utterly done with all of this. </p><p>	“That's enough! I didn't come here to watch a dick measurin’ contest, thank y’all very much. Mckoy, I know you're scared, but that doesn't mean you need to take it out on the rest of us. McFly, low blow. You’re better than that.” she hissed, at them both, doing everything in her power to copy her Ma’s mannerisms. Cowed, the boys separated, and the hall was silent. She couldn't help her relief. “Now we've gotta figure this shit out. McGregor, get the kid to her ma. First things first. Then get some of ya Plowmen and some Oranges. Go check on the tunnels integrity, the last thing in the world we need right now is a fuckin cave in.”</p><p>	“Yes ma’am” he nodded, picking the child up. </p><p>	“Good, go. Both of you.” she demanded with a little jerk of her head. Watching him scurry out of the building. “Now for the rest of yall, tell the other plowman. Hopefully this’ll pass, so we shouldn't panic yet, but they deserve to know. Imma go check it out.”</p><p>	“You sure about that, kid?” McFly asked, sharing uncertain looks with his fellow plowmen.</p><p>	“You don't have to if you don't want.” McKoy chimed in, rubbing the back of his neck “We could go with ya.”</p><p>	“Nah, I've got this. Just to check it out” she assured, despite it being less than convincing, at least to her. She turns to McGee “It's a little south of here, ain’t it?”</p><p>	“Well yeah, but what if there really is a goldilocks,-” McGee starts, before McKoy interrupts him.</p><p>	“There isn't.”</p><p>	“If” McGee reinstates, “there really is a goldilocks, are you sure you'll be alright on your own?”</p><p>	“Of course. If it exists and if it causes a problem, well Ma didn't raise no bitch.” Nellie nods, shrugging, trying her damnedest to pretend like she wasn't terrified. “I've killed a Gold before and bloodydamn it all I'll do it again. Any questions?” </p><p>	She looked around the room. No one spoke, no one dared. She had made a pretty good point, and if they were being honest, pissing off Nellie anymore then she already was, was never a good idea. “Thought so. I'm borrowing a cart.”</p><p>	And with that, she turned tail, and left. Slamming the door behind her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. To find a Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nellies gonna need some therapy after this.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>god it’s been so long but don’t yell at me. Unless I wrote Cassius wrong. Then you can and should yell at me because I need it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite saying so, Nellie really didn't want to use a cart alone. The massive metal death machines spooked her a little bit. She knew how to drive one, thanks to McFly, but that didn't mean she liked it any. Not using the cart, however, meant walking there, and that would be about a three day trip. So, sucking it up, she stepped into the metal box, starting it up and wincing at the growl it made. Taking a shaky breath, she drove it out of the city, trying not to hit any other carts that sped by, driven by people who have actually done this before. She envied them, if only because they probably weren't shaking in their seats like she was.</p>
<p>    Eventually she got past the city line, and to the once inhabitable wasteland that surrounded it. Stopping the cart, she stepped outside, cringing a bit at the thin dry air. Planting the grass and attempting to establish an atmosphere had been a Blue’s, Alexi’s, idea, back when Nellie had first “taken over”. Alexi had spoken of the other planets she had seen in her missions, telling Nellie everything as she listened like a wide eyed child. Neither of them had expected anything to grow, not really, but sure enough, despite everything, tall grass grew far as the eyes could see. </p>
<p>    With a soft smile, she fell back and landed on the soft cushy grass. Well, no it was scratchy and irritable, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She was the only person for acers, and by the Vale it was a relief. No plowmen, no Grays, no one to disappoint, and no one to look out for. Nellie could barely breathe but bloody damn did she feel like she could. </p>
<p>    Taking in as much air as she could, she closed her eyes. Letting the news finally settle in. There was a Gold on her planet. At the very least there might be and that was more than enough for her. There might be a Gold on her planet. She felt all her confidence melt into the dirt below her at the words, as she did her damnedest not to think of the last time she saw a Gold. This one wouldn't be like Ron, knowing her luck. No this one would be bigger, he wouldn't be a lousy drunkard, and this one might not be alone. </p>
<p>    Ron couldn't afford Obsidians, according to Alexi. Massive men and women that could crush her head in their fist with little effort. That followed Golds around like hound dogs and did whatever their masters asked. Ok, being honest she doubted that part a bit, if only because she couldn't count how many times she's been called a dog as well, and obviously she wasn't. Still, she wasn't stupid enough not to be scared of some monster human. Not yet at least, and that's ignoring the Gold proper. And whatever Grays he brought along with him. </p>
<p>    The more Nellie thought about it, the sicker she got. She was desperate to keep the thoughts of that night, of last time out of her head. This wouldn't be like last time, last time she got lucky. Last time she was dealing with a drunken old bastard. Last time she had a table leg and she can still hear the sound of his skull cracking open against the freshly polished floor-</p>
<p>    Barn Mcgraw, she shoved into her head. Barn McGraw of Sector Four had produced 217365460 cubic tons of dent corn. About sixty million less than the top producer, which wasn't bad considering all things. The Barn McGraw was her home, or at the very least it used to be, the Lady McGraw was a bitch on a good day and the Plowman McGraw was a worthless sniveling coward that had no right to have a dick much less lead a Barn. </p>
<p>She should start with the Barn McAfee. It was the closest to Sector Three, not that it really mattered, it's just how she liked to do it. The Barn McAfee, 276,829,005 tons of corn and she got up, shaking the fuzzy feeling out of her limbs. Then was McAuley, 469,550,227 tons of corn, and she stumbled her way to the cart with legs she couldn't feel. The Barn McBroom, 744,591,056, and she pried the cart door open with a creak. She climbed inside, Mccarroll, 916,199,261, and slammed the door behind her. At the loud sound, she could breathe again, in both senses.</p>
<p>The chance of anyone coming here on accident was a billion to one. One of her Blues tattling was even less. Most likely it was some piece of space junk that hit and that was all. The Goldilocks was a figure of the kids imagination, it was certainly easier to handle then to think about that poor girl being anywhere near a Gold. There was no Gold, just some junk to check out and see if it was valuable. She could do that.</p>
<p>She started up the cart once again, and for the first time in a very long time, Nellie let her thoughts wander. Past the large swarms of numbers and digits, she landed on thinking about the future, something she had previously avoided like the plague. If only because there wasn't supposed to be a future for her to think about.</p>
<p>Even before, whatever you wanna call it, she wasn't supposed to think. She was supposed to find a husband from a nearby Barn. She was supposed to live and work in this stranger's home, handle the silk the large worms made until her hands grew brittle and her eyes grew sad. She was supposed to lay with her stranger, and who knew what that entailed, hoping he wouldn't hurt her for the few hours they spent together. She was supposed to have children, she’d never get to meet as they call another woman mother.  That was how things were supposed to be, until she starved to death or died in a workplace accident.</p>
<p>Clearly that didn't happen. Ma never got her hitched, couldn’t find a bastard that was willing to have her if she were to guess. Then, Wayne had taught her how to play poker and it was all over after that.</p>
<p>Wayne was Nellie's brother, and by far her favorite of all the siblings and Barn mates. The bastard was massive, and had a dopey smile that made him hard to get mad at. He had taught her poker in the dead of night, long after they were supposed to be asleep. He would’ve gotten whipped between an inch of his life if anyone found out, but he didn’t seem to care too much. </p>
<p>His poker face was terrible, and he had a habit of going easy on her, but she learned and she learned a lot. Suddenly people became a lot easier to understand, and getting what she wanted became a whole lot easier. Suddenly getting her Pa to let her go play in the capital was easier than actually playing. After that it was sitting at the table and it’s the former Plowman McOeaster, a House that didn’t exist anymore, and suddenly the Barn McGraw got the laurel. </p>
<p>That was supposed to be it. No one was supposed to get hurt. Ron wasn’t supposed to find out. And Wayne wasn’t supposed to get hanged. It was her fault, all of it. She asked for Wayne to teach her. She asked the Plowmen to play. She was the one that fucked over McOeaster. That was her fault.</p>
<p>It was her fault. It was her fault her brother is dead. It is her fault the other men of the Barn, who if only out of respect for him, held her back so he wouldn’t die in vain. Letting her scream and cry as their fingers dug into her skin to keep her in place. It was her fault she ended up in front of the bastards home, broken table leg in hand. It was her fault she ended up in this mess.</p>
<p>She almost stopped the cart. Forcefully shaking the thoughts out of her head. It was done now. There was no taking it back, and there were things she needed to do. Maybe. She thinks.  She really needed to fix the whole Shine problem. That was a good place to start, if there was any at all. Shine was still illegal for some reason, and if that changed, Sector Eight wouldn't have to hide it anymore.</p>
<p>If they could make Shine, there was a chance Alexi, and Attila could sell it. The Blues seem to like it well enough, and it was leagues better then the spider piss in Ron's cabinet. So if she got to selling it, then she could get more machinery. Replace the ramshackle stills they use, if only to get them better parts. Better parts meant more Shine, and more Shine meant more money.</p>
<p>Attila mentioned growing trees, like the large strange stalks that grew outside “her house.” Apparently that’s where apples came from. Apples and oranges and maple syrup and other such good things. There wasn’t a doubt that she could get someone to tend to them, maybe get a few girls out of that Vale forsaken silk room.</p>
<p>She was getting ahead of herself. First things first was figuring out the Shine, barring the fact that she had to convince the Plowmen to take the potatoes out of their ears. She didn't know much about it, which is something she very much needed to change, but she knew enough. The Shiners needed four things, corn (obviously), sugar, yeast and water.</p>
<p>Corn was easy to get, even if half the Barns in their sector stopped growing they would still have too much. That was assuming the Sector did not contribute to the harvest and stuck directly to Shine. Sugar was a slight problem as it was, much less scaling it.  obviously they were gonna have to grow it. And fuck if she knew how to do that.</p>
<p>Yeast was slightly more tolerable to deal with. They needed yeast normally, so she couldn't imagine it would be too difficult to get them more. Of course that was money, but if they grew their own sugar and corn, it shouldn't be anything she couldn't handle. That brought her to her favorite part. Figuring it out.</p>
<p>    According to a plowman, a ten gallon run would give her about two to four gallons of alcohol in a 14 day period. She went to two to be safe, if only because shit happened. Two gallons turned into 256 ounces. 256 ounces filled 16 mason jars. Each Barn had about 200,000 stills sprinkled about through the area (absolutely something she needed fixed.) 400,000 gallons, 51,200,000 fluid ounces, 3,200,000 mason jars of Shine per Barn. 4,000,000 gallons, 5,120,000 fluid ounces, 32,000,000 mason jars. Barely enough to keep the planet drunk much less anyone else. </p>
<p>    But maybe, just maybe she could make it work. Getting it legal in the first place was an ordeal, but after that, they wouldn't have to hide. That should increase their productivity at least a third, more so if she kicks their ass about letting more people help. That 16 million jars of Shine she could send with the Blues. And she doubted they really needed that.</p>
<p>That just left getting the bastards to legalize it. McFly was on her side, that was something. All of them drank it either way, and the only reason the Bloody damn thing was illegal was so Ron and the Silvers and that whole lot could sell their piss in a bottle for more than they had any right too. That and the corn thing but fuck Nellie in the pit if that made it justified anything at all. Billion tons of corn and they couldn’t spare any, yeah fucking right.</p>
<p>She began feeling cautiously optimistic. Like for the first time in, who knows how long, she knew exactly what she was doing. Like for the first time she wasn’t fighting uphill, and maybe. Just maybe. She could do a little good.</p>
<p>And then the crash came into view, and she felt herself topple like a thing of bricks. It looked like a Barn had crumbled, tall jagged shards of metal sticking into the ground like statues. In her horror, Nellie stepped out of the cart, and the only thought in her mind was “I wish it was on fire.” If it was on fire and bodies were spread all over the ground the pure unadulterated fear that shot through her would be justified.</p>
<p>Step by step, she stumbled forward. Doing everything in her power not to think how close it was to Sector Seven. She knew it was close, she knew children could make it, but seeing it, seeing the city just barely out of view. Seeing how close it was to a total disaster made her want to get sick, and that was ignoring the possibility, the ever growing possibility, of a Gold on her planet.</p>
<p> When Nellie was younger, back when she was tiny and stupid and filled with more stubborn pride then any child her age ever should be, she used to play a game with the boys her age. They called it coward, or chicken depending on the barn, and they would sneak into the mud pit to play. The name of the game was to run from one side to another, and outrun the timed blades that would churn the dirt, filth, and the dead bodies of her friends and family into smaller pieces, for the leeches to eat. The longer you hugged the wall, less time you gave yourself to out run the blades, the worse off you were. As you ran you had better hope your foot wouldn’t get stuck in the mud. The blades wouldn’t stop for you, that was something understood before you played.</p>
<p>It felt like that. Not the game itself, but the understanding. As she stepped further and further into the ruin, it felt like she was on the wall. The hope she wouldn’t fucking die, the understanding that she might. Her stubborn pride kept her from backing out. The blades weren’t behind her this time. This time they were hidden, and she didn’t even know if they were actually there. There was no need to run, and somehow that was worse. She doubted she could bring herself to run.  </p>
<p>Further and further she stormed through the wreak, taking note of things of interest. There was still no bodies, which was interesting. Torn fabric, broken wood, food of some kind. Even a large mans jacket, but no people, no blood, no body. No Gold. Shards of metal, electronic gizmos, shards of glass, no Gold, no Gray, no Obsidian. She ran further. Faster, items blurred into others. Metal became boney limbs with pale skin clinging desperately as it shifted under the mud. Clothes became corn stalks, and the poor kid from Barn McAfee fell behind. She could mourn later after she was out of the way of the blades. </p>
<p>Glass, metal, clothes, corn, mud, a bone and then, </p>
<p>A Gold. </p>
<p>The man was massive. Broad shoulders and golden hair that shines like a bullet casing. He looked like death, what she imagined the man at the Vale looked like. Hideous and horrifying and everything she feared for the last twelve seasons. His hand alone could crush her head like it was nothing, and it would be nothing. What would her death be to him, a nameless woman with red hair that billions of people could replace. That was assuming he didnt know and why the fuck else would he be there.</p>
<p>She ran.</p>
<p>Keeping her head down she forced her feet to move, finding a solid chunk of wall to cower behind as she clawed at the air trapped in her throat. Her body shook, as she used what little strength she had left to keep the tears from falling. If and when this man killed her, the least she could do for her pride was not let him see her tears. He didn't deserve them. Wayne deserved her tears. The hundreds of good men and women she watched get chucked into the mud pit deserved her tears. The unnamed boy who jumped in front of her in time to catch a bullet deserved her tears. Not him. Not that bastard.</p>
<p>She shook her head, the air finally leaving her. No. She wasn't going to die here. She refused. There was far too much left for her to do, too many changes to make. There were too many people that needed her for her to die to some nameless small cocked pansy. Not without a fight. Not if she had anything to say about it.</p>
<p>Quick as a whip, she began thinking, letting her breathing get slow, and quiet. What did she know, that was a good place to start. He was alone, had just crash landed, and there was a chance he was hurt. All in her favor as horrible as it was to say. She froze, remembering back when she was younger. Could golds read minds? Old Man Tarden McGraw used to tell them they could and she didn’t know much. Granted Ron clearly couldn't read her mind. He thought she was just some house Red. that is until- </p>
<p>Then the thought occurred, she meant nothing to this man. She was one in a million billion “pests”, who’s to say he knew what she did. For all she knew he had no idea who killed the last bastard. There was nothing to say he knew her name. </p>
<p>Looking down, she wished she wore actual clothes instead of one of Ron's old sweaters. She couldn't exactly go back now, so she just resigned herself to ignoring it. If she didn't mention it, he probably wouldn't, at the very least it's worked before. She straightened her posture. Thinking of one of her staff she sees every once in a while, she puts her hair in a bun, using a loose strand to tie it off. </p>
<p>Peeking her head out from behind the wall, she takes a step towards the horrifying creature of certain death, keeping her face passive and her shaking to a minimum. He loomed before her, searching the wreckage for something or other. She allowed herself a gulp, disparate to get the air.</p>
<p>“Hello?” she croaked, keeping her back straight and her eyes in front. Despite the rumors, she never really interacted with a Gold before. The closest she got before that night would be at her brother's hangin, and even then he didn't even see her really. This was going to be interesting, she thought bitterly, unsure what to do with her hands. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>He stood, turning to her. He had the eyes of a Devil, staring right through her mortal soul like it was nothing. At least, that's what it felt like. She did her best not to size him up, at least in a way that was obvious. He stared at her, eyes on her hips and her mind went into overdrive. She was missing something, she could tell but for the life of her what had escaped her. She only just prevented herself from gaping like an idiot as she slogged through numbers upon numbers upon other things she forgot, but not this.  </p>
<p>After a solid twenty second of just staring at him, sv he remembered something. She fought the urge to celebrate as she remembered an unfamiliar word the staff used to call her, back before she demanded they stop. Keeping her voice steady, she spoke again. “Domina?”</p>
<p>That startled him, he tilted his head “Excuse me?”  he then snorted, looking himself over. She kept down her panic, hoping he'd be merciful enough to explain. He didn't, shaking his head and leaving her stranded. “In any case, I am fine. And who might you be?”</p>
<p>She froze “Uh. forgive me domina. But does that matter?” </p>
<p>He blinked, staring at her. “I'm… you don't have to call me that.” he stuttered, shaking his head. “You may call me Cassius. Cassius au Bellona.”</p>
<p>    “Right.” she mumbled, forgetting herself for only a moment before shaking her head, she bowed feeling both stupid and like a tool. “forgive me, I have been asked to see if there were any survivors, and take them to the ArchGovernor.”</p>
<p>At that his smile fell, as he straightened, giving her a tiny heart attack, “Of course, I imagine they'll be wanting some answers. I did make a mess of things. " he rubbed his chin,  looking back at the wreck of his ship.</p>
<p>Shit. Shit shit shit there was no ArchGoverner. There was no governor besides her because she killed him and- oh. Oh right. Right that was why she was there. </p>
<p>Nellie took the opportunity to take a few steps closer.  Her head pounding with what she had to do rattled around her brain. she needed to do something to keep her people safe. A single Gold could be the end of this entire planet's freedom. A single Gold could mean more deaths, more brothers lost, more sisters abandoned.  Her jaw was tight as something shiny caught her eye. Something she could use.</p>
<p>"I don't even know what caused this." He spoke as he looked over the wreckage, Making idle conversation.  She nodded without a word. </p>
<p>Wayne played chicken only once. And how he played came to mind.</p>
<p>She picked up the strange sword looking thing, with a steady and firm hand. There was no time to be afraid. No time to back down now. </p>
<p>He played once, after someone called her something nasty. Playing for pride was common, playing for someone else’s pride was less so. He had played once.</p>
<p>She wielded it like a stick, the blade glinting. Wayne played once. And he didn’t bother to run. No no he didn’t need to. He walked, talked across as if the danger didn’t exist. He was afraid of nothing, not the blades behind him and not the dirt before him. He walked, and so did she, she walked, and the blade was  at the Gold man's neck. </p>
<p>“Down.” she demanded, her mind blank and eyes angry. Slowly he obeyed, sinking to his knees as she circled to his front. Sword aimed for the jugular. </p>
<p>“Care to tell me what you're doing, Red?” he sneered, looking her dead in the eye. This time she met him back, and his breath stank of whiskey. It was almost comforting, in a strange way. As was the scar on his face.</p>
<p>“‘M Sorry.” she said, softly. She meant it, too. “It ain't personal, I promise.”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry, too” he admitted, and lunged, barely giving her enough time to fall out of the way. She hissed, landing on the blade and getting a nasty cut on her arm for the trouble. Far too quickly, Cassius got up, turning on her like a wild beast. She scrambled, running for the ruins as he chased after her.      </p>
<p>“Fuck fuck fuck” she mumbled to herself, mind running faster then she was. She dived, scurrying through a hole too small for him to follow. Shrapnel cut at her hands and her sides and she heard him curse, scaling the rubble and almost landing on top of her. She threw the sharp thing out of his reach, as he loomed on top of her. If he got his hands around her throat it was game over, so with a screech and a hail mary, she grabbed a larger piece of scrap, aiming for his knee as she plunged it right into his lower thigh. To seal it, she kicked, burying it deeper, and causing him to fall.</p>
<p>“Sorry!” she screamed, using the kick to momentum herself towards the sharp thing. He grabbed her ankle, causing her to fall, as he dragged her back. Her fingernails chipped and ripped as she clawed at the dry dirt and rubble, and with barely enough sanity left she grabbed a handful and threw it in his eyes. Thank the Vale he let go, letting her scramble and run out of his reach. “Sorry for that too!”</p>
<p>    Her ankle ached, he had gripped it too hard, but limp or no she ran. Climbing up a light ramp and looking for the shiny thing, moving things aside to block the following Gold. Only to uncover something, dive for the floor, and grab the gun out of the wreckage. She jumped up, and turned around, only to stop and nearly drop the gun immediately after.</p>
<p>The Gold wasn't alone.</p>
<p>He had a boy with him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Drinking Buddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>According to my beta "Nellie could have been a lesbian but NOOOO she gets stuck with dumbfuck blonde men"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So many things went through Nellie's head in that moment that on any other day she would have ended up passed out on the floor. From the denial that Golds that small could possibly exist, to the dread that she nearly killed this poor kids dad in front of him, and every possible thing in between. Despite this, the only real thought that she really figured was “this kid looks like a fucking tool” </p>
<p>She almost laughed. Immense relief filling her for no good reason. He was still a Gold. His “father” was still there with him. By all means she was still a dead woman with a gun in her hand but for the life of her she couldn't make herself feel afraid. She wasn't sure she even wanted to. </p>
<p>The boy was her height, which she imagined was tiny for a Gold as despised as she was to say. He was lean and thin and all gangly limbs and sharp edges. With a twinge of sympathy she raised her free hand, blood still dripping from the unfortunate gash. Luckily she could still feel her fingers, so she stored that away to worry about later. Sounding incredulous,  she tried, calling out,  “Howdy.”</p>
<p>The kid didn't answer, eyes trained on the gun. He looked scared and a bit resigned, and without thinking really she set down the hard fought gun and took a step closer hands up in a little surrender. “Are you ok?” she tried again. Keeping her voice all sugar and cream, if only so she didn't scare him too much.</p>
<p>He hesitated, calculating, “my... A Blue… she's hurt.” he finished lamely, very clearly tired and aching. Nellie nodded, jogging over to him and finding the Blue in question. She was propped up against some rubble, her head bleeding as wound up blankets and rags served as pillows to make her more comfortable. She was out cold, and fearing the worst she checked her wrist, and was relieved she felt something thump. </p>
<p>Nellie was clueless as what to do next, as normally if someone was bleeding from their head they didn’t last much longer. She wasn’t willing to tell him that, not yet, so as cordially as she could, mocking her ma just a little bit, she asked. “May I make your acquaintance?”</p>
<p>He hesitated again, and she got the slight impression that he tended to think too much. Not that she could really say anything on it. “Her name is Pytha….” He said first, “and I am Lysander.”</p>
<p> “Lysander, what?” She asked, not ignoring the bleeding woman, per say, but not willing to look at her dying form much longer. When he didn’t answer, she made a little hand gesture her Pa would do when someone was obviously stalling. “Ain’t you got some sorta title? Au somethin’ somethin’ Or somthin’? Like that bigger one”</p>
<p>He grumbled, cursing at the larger Gold for blowing their cover, and in kindness Nellie pretended she didn’t notice. She then pretended not to notice as he changed the subject. “Where is Cassius, the “bigger one”? Is he ok?” </p>
<p>Nellie almost frowned, biting her lip. her poker face was second to none, but lying to kids, with their big old eyes, wasn’t her strong spot. Even when said kid looked and kinda talked like a tool. “I don’t know. He was around here somewhere.” She answered mildly, not a lie, looking around. She shouldn’t have thrown away her gun, she realized, but she really couldn’t bring herself to pick it up now. Might give the poor kid a heart attack.</p>
<p>The Blue continued to bleed, and Nellie grabbed a clean rag from the ground to keep pressure on it. She thinks that’s what she’s supposed to do, but she was no Yellow, not by a long shot. Getting a Yellow for her shouldn’t be too hard, as long as they got to her house before she died.  Therein lies the problem, and she turned back to the kid.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a cart somewhere back there. Let’s get her there and find your pa, yeah?” she assured, and he stared at her like she grew another head. “Somethin’ wrong?”</p>
<p>“My what?” he asked, almost insulted. Nellie frowned, confused. She did a vague hand gesture, not really sure what else to say on the matter.</p>
<p>“Your pa? The big guy?” she reasoned,  and the boy continued to stare. With an exhausted sigh, she turned her attention back to the woman. Nellie wasn’t the strongest, she couldn’t lift too much, but she debated whether or not she could try. Best case she could and the kid didn't have to worry about it. Not thinking of the worst, she bent down, keeping herself from jostling the Blue too badly. </p>
<p>With a breath, she picked up the woman. The cut on her arm screaming in protest as Nellie did everything in her power not to drop her. She steadied herself. One moment, another. She opened her eyes and almost laughed at the look on the kids face. He was poised, ready to catch Pytha if Nellie were to fail. Squirrely looking kid, that. </p>
<p>“I think I’ve got it.” She assured in a grunt. Taking a step, then another with a bit more confidence each time. Only for the dread she had almost forgotten to come rushing back into her as she remembered who she was with. Suddenly she was far too exposed, burdened with a dying person in her arms as one of the scariest monsters she's ever seen lurked out of view.</p>
<p>This was a trap, she was sure of it, and she couldn't breathe enough. Quick as a whip she scanned her surroundings. She was damned with the Blue in her arms, but if she had to drop her, if she had to make that decision what would be her next move. Assuming the gun was out of the question, a safe assumption after dropping it behind her. </p>
<p>She took a breath, a few steps, and she counted. There were thirteen “sticks” or items shaped like it she could use to swing. That would be her best bet. Another step, twenty seven items that were sharp and or jagged enough to play knife. A strangled breath and four places she could reasonably run for cover assuming she wasn’t gunned down right then and there. </p>
<p>That left the kid, and knots tied in her stomach. He didn’t do a bloody damn thing and yet. And yet Nellie needed to survive. No matter what, or who, kept her from that. If it came down to it, if that’s the sacrifice she had to make for her people she shouldn’t hesitate. She would, that was inevitable but she shouldn’t. That left the Blue. If she was still alive then. If-</p>
<p>“‘Lo? Red?” Lysander asked. Waving his hand in front of her. “Are you dying?”</p>
<p>She almost grabbed the hand in front of her, almost dropping the woman in her arms. Finally air, as thin and dry as it was, returned to her lungs. She did her best to hide the heaving sound that escaped her.</p>
<p>“Pardon?” She wheezed, shooting him a look that could kill. He gave a pout, and before he could speak she gestured ahead. “Never mind. There’s the cart. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“Excuse you?” He demanded, his accent making his voice just a bit pitchy. she moved past him, leaving him to gape as she approached the death trap. With much difficulty, she kicked at the door, and whatever was watching over decided to be merciful and open it. With what little strength she had left, she shoved the woman inside. Moving her a little so her head stayed elevated. Then she crumbled. Leaning on the front door as she slid to the ground. </p>
<p>“There’s no gorydamn way you want me to get inside that thing.” Lysander spoke, staring daggers into the old rust bucket. She turned, if only so he knew she wasn’t dead. “It looks like it’ll kill me for just looking at it.”</p>
<p>Nellie turned her attention to the ground, finding a rare weed to pick at as she waited for the feeling to return to her legs. What she wouldn’t give for a jar of Shine right now, even a smoker, not that she was much of a fan. After a breath, she asked “would ya rather walk?”</p>
<p>He huffed, crossing his arms. “How far is the walk?”</p>
<p>She snorted, but couldn’t really argue. “Three days if you don’t stop. And that’s if a Devil doesn’t find ya first.”</p>
<p>His brow furrows, and the pout is almost smacked off his face. He looks around, before looking back to her. “What’s a Devil?”</p>
<p>She gave a smile. “You wanna find out?” She baited. In all seriousness the Devils weren’t anything to be afraid of. At least not up there. Devils were down in the fields, hiding in the abandoned tunnels waiting for an unlucky Red to wander into its teeth. Goldie didn’t know that, though. She tended to exploit it.  The boy shook his head, and with that she got up, stretching. “Hop in.” </p>
<p>“What about Cassius?” Lysander said, still doing what she asked if a bit reluctantly. She adjusted her mirror, hiding her fear though a tremble in her leg. She started up, stifling her flinch as Lysander almost shrieked at the sound it made. “And are you sure about this thing!”</p>
<p>“We’re gonna find Cassius, don’t worry, I just ain’t gonna walk again.” She said, fighting the urge to forget about the Gold and get the Blue some help. It took about two minutes of driving to find the man, leaned against a hunk of metal waiting for death. He startled, obviously, at the sight of the cart, but it didn’t deter Nellie much.</p>
<p>She reached over and opened the passenger door, waving. Cassius’ eyes flickered between her and Lysander in the back, and gently he forced himself up, gearing for a fight. Quickly she shut that down. “Get in or I’m leavin’ you here.” </p>
<p>He scowled, but seeing no other option, he limped forward and climbed in, making for the most awkward cart ride in Nellie's life. For the most part the Golds ignored her, making sure the other was ok. She tried her best not to eavesdrop, letting numbers take hold to the best of her ability. This didn’t keep her from taking peaks at the monster beside her. </p>
<p>The more she looked, the more she saw how stacked the “fight” was in her favor. His eyes were bloodshot, and he started off like he got hit in the head. Her jab at his knee was still bleeding, and he reeked of alcohol. Even then she only barely survived the encounter, and that scared Nellie to the core. </p>
<p>Getting home took less than half the time and it still felt too long. She whirred into the docking port, the brakes squeaking in protest. Everyone in the car lurched, but Nellie didn't stick around to hear their complaints, once again kicking the door open and sprinting to the house. </p>
<p>At the door a High Red waited, looking concerned at the bleeding from her arm. She waved him off, panting. “I'll deal with that later. Blue, in the cart. We need a Yellow, now. Go.”</p>
<p>At her say he ran to the phone, summoning others of the staff to his aid. She walked past them, head held high as she stormed to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Tears welled in her eyes as she let her body shake in fear, every second another realization of what she just did. There's a Gold on her planet. There was a Gold at her home. </p>
<p>Nellie pulled at her hair as she silently berated herself. She was an idiot, she should have killed the both of them the second she had the chance. She had the gun in hand. they shouldn't be here. She felt her grasp on the tentative future fall through her fingers, damned as she was. She knew very well how the Plowman would take this, how Greys would take this and that's assuming he didn't demand control first. </p>
<p>Nausea filled her throat as a memory of smoke lurked all around her. Thick smoke and blistering heat and agonized screams as the rope, that bloody damn rope swung back and forth in front of her. The stench of rotting, burning corpses and blood bringing her to her knees. She could still hear his scream, the smell of his alcohol and the splinters of the broken table leg digging into the palms of her hands.</p>
<p>She gripped at the unforgiving floorboards as her mind warred with itself. Relief tugged at her heartstrings at the thought of being free from everything as her gut twisted at the thought of leaving them behind. She was selfish and scared but maybe just maybe she could spend one last day without looking over her shoulder-</p>
<p>At the knock of her door she turned, scrambling to get off her knees as the door opened a creak. A Yellow woman peaked in, with large eyes and a chubby face. They both hesitated, and Nellie was half sure she was there to poison her. Slowly Nellie began backing up, and the Yellow finally spoke, after stumbling through titles that might apply to her “My lady? May I come in?”</p>
<p>“You're already through the door.” Nellie snarked, tired, only to regret it a moment later as a look of horror grew on the Yellow's face. She waved herself off, cursing the lack of manners her mother drilled into her head. “Pardon me. Is there somethin’ I can help you with?”</p>
<p>She stood, gaping like a fish for a moment, only to shake her head. “I was informed you had an injury, would you mind if I took a look?”</p>
<p>Nellie blinked. Then blinked again. The cut on her arm had stopped bleeding, and really she was content to leave it at that. Despite this, she couldn't for the life of her find a way to say no. “sure?” she asked, feeling stupid.</p>
<p>The Yellow nodded, and Nellie offered her the bloody arm as she sat on the corner of her bed. She got straight to work, laying out her large leather kit and shuffling around the strange tools inside. Nellie looked away, suddenly fascinated by the crown molding and the twenty seven little loops that made up the design. </p>
<p>“You wouldn't happen to give lessons, by chance?” Nellie asked, attempting to make small talk and distract from the way she sized the Yellow up. She looked up, making direct eye contact and Nellie quickly turned to look at her desk, with the fourteen sheets of paper spread out to look a mess.</p>
<p>“Yes, my lady. Why?” The Yellow cautioned, possibly aware that Nellie was sizing up for a fight. (not that it matters, but Nellie assumes she can win. The Yellow left her bag opened, and Nellie counted four things she could jam into the woman's eyes if needed) </p>
<p>“Figured I could use some. Don't like being useless.' 'Nellie hissed as she disinfected the large cut. She apologized, and they were lured into silence, leaving Nellie to think for a moment, “and you can call me McGraw. I ain't exactly a lady.”</p>
<p>That shocked her, and for a second the Yellow didn't say anything. Feeling as though she crossed a line, Nellie looked away, about to backpedal when the Yellow interrupted her. “Alright, Mcgraw. You can call me Tenor. Dr Tenor if you must.”</p>
<p>Nellie smiled something genuine, offering her good hand for a shake. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Doc.”</p>
<p>Tenor took it. “The pleasure is mine. Now. sit still a moment, this will hurt.” with the warning, she took a needle out from its plastic sleeve and thread it, and Nellie grit her teeth. She had gotten stitches before, back when she was little and had busted up her knee, but it didn't mean she liked it any. Gripping her bed, she began to count them. One, two. Four, five. And seven. Tenor dropped the needle, wrapping the stitches in a bandage after another round of disinfectant. </p>
<p>“Thank ya.” Nellie said, hopping off the bed and getting out of the doctors way as she rounded up her gear. “Is there any chance someone got to the Blue by now?”</p>
<p>Tenor blinked. “My- McGraw? We had tended to her hours ago. The Golds as well.” </p>
<p>Nellie scowled, biting the inside of her cheek before shaking her head. “Oh. good.” she mumbled, feeling stupid.  “Well I'll let you go. But let me know about those lessons.”</p>
<p>Tenor nodded, her things packed as she made to leave, only to stop at the door. Panic filled Nellie, only for the doctor to turn back. “McGraw. Like the Barn, yes?”</p>
<p>She nodded dumbly, and Tenor continued. “I was recently assigned to the Barn, about a year ago.” she trailed off, looking for the words. </p>
<p>“You like it any?” she reasoned, genuinely curious. Adding other Colors to the Barns had been her idea, something to make working the planet easier. It took a lot of time to work out, but she didn't really know how anyone felt about it. She didn't really have time, or the energy, to ask and was safest to assume they all hated it, and move on. As bleak as it was to say.</p>
<p>To her surprise Tenor nodded, still looking for something to say. When nothing came she bid her goodbye, leaving Nellie to her lonesome and just a little bit confused.</p>
<p>She sat on the bed once more, looking at her bandages with a careful awe. Yellows didn't waste time on Reds, there were too many and usually it was easier letting them die. You got help from your ma, you walked it off, or you ended up in the pit. And yet Tenor didn't hesitate, a little line of stitches and a bandage. She didn't so much as protest, she helped.  </p>
<p>She helped because things were different. Reds were not worthless anymore, Nellie wasn't worthless. She never had been.</p>
<p> This was her planet, and that wasn't changing. Not if she could help it, and not because some pretty boy with golden hair couldn't drive a ship. </p>
<p>She crept out of her room, closing the door behind her as she finally took off her outside boots, her inside boots remaining. She walked through the hallways and rooms, noticing where she tracked mud in. Keeping an eye out, she looked for either one of the golds, only to find Cassius on her front porch. For a moment she stayed, fighting the tightness in her chest and the urge to run and hide. She stayed, staring at him as the idea of a monster slowly faded away. </p>
<p>He was still scary, Nellie wasn't stupid. But she felt comfortable enough in that moment to voice her thoughts. “What are you doing?” </p>
<p>He turned, scowling slightly at the sight of her, as she focused on the nice crystal glass full of clear yellowish brown liquid. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“I live here, dumbass.” she said, going through the door, and leaning against the wall.</p>
<p>“Didn't take you for a house-Red.” he snarked, taking a sip of what she believed was some of her “good” alcohol. She shrugged. </p>
<p>“I ain't one.” she said. Waiting for everything to click. It took a minute, so she went back inside, going to the booze cabinet in the living room, and grabbing a jar full of Shine. She walked back, sitting down beside him and taking a swig. He stared back at her, and she smiled. “Howdy.”</p>
<p>He snorted, taking a swig of his own, “Lo then, Red. I never got a name you know.”</p>
<p>“I know, Goldielocks.” she said, just a little bit mocking. “Nellie. It's Nellie of Mcgraw. what are you drinking anyhow?”</p>
<p>At that he sneered at the glass full of Ron’s piss, and she'd be a little offended if she didn't completely agree. Without a word, she offered her mason jar, and he took it. “Whiskey?” he asked, after taking a sniff.</p>
<p>“Shine.” she agreed and watched as he took a mouthful. She tried to stop him, but it was too late. He coughed and sputtered, spitting out half the Shine as he held his chest. Feeling bad, Nellie laughed, taking the jar from him so he wouldn't spill any more. it took him a solid minute to learn to breathe again, and Nellie was still reeling from uncontrollable laughter. </p>
<p>	“Something funny.” he finally managed, glaring at her as she continued to laugh.</p>
<p>She nodded. “Sorry,” she tried through giggles. “I just expected a high and mighty Gold man such as yourself to know how to drink right.”</p>
<p>	“You could have warned me it was made of rat poison.” he grumbled, but sure enough a smile cracked, and she found herself liking the look of it. That and the odd scar on his face.</p>
<p>	“My bad. You wanna try again?” she asked, offering the jar once again. He took it, taking a smaller sip this time. She earned a hum in approval, before he passed it back to her. </p>
<p>	“So. ArchGoverner huh?” he breached, after a quiet minute of passing the jar back and forth “How did you pull that off?”</p>
<p>	“Murder.” she admitted. “How did you end up here?”</p>
<p>	“Murder attempt.” he sighed, taking another drink. “After the Rising, a lot of people were left stranded. And many of them were very unhappy with me.”</p>
<p>	“The Risin’?” she asked, and he turned to her.</p>
<p>“Darrow? The Reaper? Sons of Ares?” he tried, waiting for something to ring a bell. She shook her head. Unsure. After Ron's death, she may have accidentally destroyed all off planet communication, among other things. What society did beyond her rock and her ships of corn  had nothing to do with her as far as she was concerned. “Have you been living under a rock? Where have you been for the past six years?”</p>
<p>“Killing a Gold and running a planet.” she shrugged, taking the jar back from him. “Now you gonna tell me what the whole Risin’ thing is or are ya gonna keep me in suspense.”</p>
<p>He started, before biting his lip and shaking his head. “Honestly? For now you're better off not knowing.”</p>
<p>“Well that ain't cryptic as shit.” she snarked, frowning at her new found drinking partner. He attempted to take the jar, only for her to keep it from him. “Oh no you don’t. You can have the Shine back once you stop being an asshole.” </p>
<p>“Oh come now, that’s hardly fair.” he whined, and she refused. “I'm always an asshole.”</p>
<p>“Pity.” she snarked, sticking her tongue out. After taking another long sip, she hands the jar back. </p>
<p>“What happened to stop being an asshole?” he asked. </p>
<p>“Eh, pot and kettle.” She waved off, and they lulled into a comfortable silence, staring at the sky as they drank, and Nellie considered. Something she couldn't escape to numbers. There were no values, no math she could knock out in seconds. Just a dumb question and whether or not she should ask it. The alcohol made things fuzzy, sure, but not nearly enough to justify it. Only enough to loosen her tongue.</p>
<p>“Hey.” she started, getting his attention. “You said you were here to help people?”</p>
<p>“Depends on the help,” he affirmed, and she almost shut up right then and there. Shaking her head, She continued, gently. </p>
<p> “I could use some.” she said, closing her eyes “I ain't proud of what I did to get here, but it ain’t enough. We're still hungry, we're still dying. It ain't fair. It ain't enough. And if- when I'm gone it'll all go back to what it was… I can't let that happen. But I don't know what to do.”</p>
<p>Finally, with all the drunken bravado she had left, she looked him in the eyes. She couldn't keep the contact long, but it was enough to ask, batting her big old doe eyes. “Do you?”</p>
<p>	He stared, long after she looked away. She could feel his gaze burn into her, but someone help her if she could read him. Finally, he asked. “And what do I get out of this arrangement?”</p>
<p>	“More Shine and a permanent drinking buddy.” she offered, for it was all she had to give. </p>
<p>	Apparently that was enough for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>here we are! now rest assured I am no where near done with these two losers. Ive got plot points and Au's and so many fun things I'm going to cover. So stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading this strange story of mine.</p>
<p>See you soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>